


Somniloquy

by strigine



Series: Slumber Sequence [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pajamas & Sleepwear, Post-Movie(s), Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strigine/pseuds/strigine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thirteen months after the events of the movie, Newton learns new things about Gottlieb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somniloquy

**Author's Note:**

> So we came out of “Pacific Rim" and my BFF mortuus_lingua was like “There totally needs to be slash between the scientists."
> 
> And then, damn her, I STARTED THINKING ABOUT IT.
> 
> Someday this might be more of A Thing, but right now, a sleepy post-movie scene:

Hermann Gottlieb wears a full set of pajamas to bed, long-sleeved, made from a breathable navy striped modal that somehow still manages to look Victorian. Hermann sleeps on his back, hands folded primly on his chest, in the middle of his bed with the top sheet pulled up precisely to the xiphoid process. Hermann’s hair, when it’s not lacquered into submission, is wavy, and prone to forming a little curl right over his eye.

The Newton of five years ago — okay, let’s be real, the Newton of thirteen months ago, Before Hong Kong — would have found this hilarious. That Newton would have made jokes about OCD mummies and vampires, about Union suits with ass-flaps and flannel footie PJs like he wore when he was a kid.

The Newton of Right Now, the Newton who chased a vestigial ache halfway around the world to Hermann’s drizzle-damp London doorstep, finds it all frankly fucking adorable. Not that the word will cross his lips, because Hermann also has elbows like jackhammers which the fancy modal pajamas do absolutely nothing to soften, and Newton would rather not take one to the solar plexus because Hermann thinks he’s being teased.

Newton Geiszler wears boxers and old t-shirts to bed — sometimes not even the shirt, in summer. Tonight’s is a well-worn red-faded-to-pink tee from the 2023 K-Science Lab Softball Team. Newton sleeps on his stomach or his side and tends to sprawl across the entire bed in a manner defying Newtonian physics ("like a goddamn cat, seriously, how do you even do that?" to quote one former girlfriend).

Tonight, in the interest of somnolent tranquility, Newton is on his side, tucked in next to Hermann, one hand resting lightly on his. Hermann has been talking since they climbed into bed together, fighting sleep with the determination of a five-year-old. He started out at a volume and pace reminiscent of their livelier debates in the lab, but as the minutes pass his voice has softened, his words slowed.

"It just doesn’t make sense," he murmurs, the fingers of one hand tapping lightly against the back of Newton’s as he talks, as if he doesn’t even realize it’s not his own. “Physical proximity alone should not have any effect on a purely psychological phenomenon. Whatever the lingering…effects…from our shared Drift experience, I don’t see how simply being closer should ameliorate them." There’s a long pause, during which his eyes drift shut in a very slow blink. When he resumes, he speaks even more quietly. “Mother used to do that. When I was sick, or. Couldn’t sleep."

Newton realizes he’s been combing his free hand through Hermann’s hair, occasionally wrapping the one curl around his index finger before letting it slip free. He forces himself to hold his hand still. “I, uh. I remember. Kind of. Is it okay?"

"M’yes."

Newton curls a little closer, settles the hand on Hermann’s chest more firmly. “We can run some tests in your lab tomorrow if it would make you feel better. I mean, I may have to modify some of your equipment for it, but it’ll be better afterwards." Even on the verge of sleep Hermann manages an offended huff; Newton just chuckles, and lets himself drift. 

He’s still barely this side of awake when he hears Hermann mumble, “‘s better now." Warmth wells up from his chest. He brushes his lips against Hermann’s temple in what he will absolutely deny tomorrow was a kiss.

"Yeah. It is."


End file.
